Break Her Free: A Curvy Captive Romance

by Alice May Ball

When he knocks on the door again, I’m sat, crouched in the corner of the shower, shivering violently, immersed in the chilling flow.

  He says, “I made more coffee.” His voice is warm. Strong. I want him so much.

  I make my voice as steady as I can and tell him, “I’ll be out soon.”

  “Take all the time you want. I’ll be in the kitchen. Shout if there’s anything you want.”

  Feeling the pressure is off, I start to calm down. When I turn off the cold shower, I shiver so much I turn it back on again, but warmer. As the shivers stop, I raise the temperature a little at a time until I start to feel something like normal again.

  After I dry off, it still takes me a couple of minutes before I can make myself come out of the shower to dress.

  He left the sliding doors to the suite closed. Considerate. He’s being very understanding.

  When I head for the kitchen, I pass one of the mirrored closet doors. I think it’s fair to say that I’m not particularly vain, but I’m sure that I never looked as bedraggled and pathetic as my reflection in the mirror.

  I don’t believe I ever cared less, either.

  He looks up from a tablet as soon as I step out of the suite. He’s perched at the breakfast island in the kitchen area. “You look a little rested. You could do with more, though.”

  “I do feel tired.”

  “Shock, I reckon. It can be hard on you. There’s more coffee. Shall I pour you some?”

  “Thanks.” I climb onto a high stool across the island from his as he goes to fetch coffee for me. He passes the cup to me and says, “I’ve a few things to do. I want to look at a couple of apartments, and there are a couple of people I ned to talk to.”

  He sits back down. His hand is on the counter and I want so much to take it. “All of it can wait, but I was thinking, you might like an hour or two to yourself. To decompress. Settle yourself.”

  The coffee is fresh and hot. I tell him, “It’s dumb. I don’t get why I feel like this. All the bad things happened. You pretty much rescued me from the last of it. I shouldn’t be moping about and feeling bad.”

  He turns his hand over, but he makes it like a gesture. Casual. “You’ve been under stress. And holding yourself strong. When you get to release all that, it can feel like you’re collapsing. I’m betting you haven’t had time to adjust and adapt from all the bad stuff at the start yet.”

  “You’re very understanding.”

  “I come from a land of poets,” he says, “And tragedy.”

  I smile and take his hand.

  “What you need is about four weeks of Netflix and the Hallmark Channel, chocolate in hot, drinking and cake forms, and a few gallons of Irish Whiskey.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “So, what I want to know is, would you like me to stay here and wait on you hand and foot, or would you like some alone time?”

  “Will you come back soon?”

  “How about if I check back here in a couple of hours? Or would you like longer?”

  “No. A couple of hours sounds good.”

  “For now. We’ll see how we go.” And he says, “Let me take your number, and I’ll give you mine.”

  “I don’t have a phone.”

  “Seriously?” I don’t think he believes me.

  “No. Uncle Nico took mine. Said it was for my protection.”

  He takes out a phone I haven’t seen before. “I’ll leave you this. It’s my personal phone. I’ll put in the number of the burner that I use for business. I’ll get you a phone of your own while I’m out.”

  “No, don’t. I don’t have any money.”

  “Not that it would matter, but you do. Remember that little white sack? It’s in the drawer under the table in the sitting area. Take whatever you want.”

  He picks up his jacket. “There’s plenty of food, but over there is a stack of takeaway and delivery menus.” I put out my hand to catch him as he whirls by.

  He bends to kiss me on the forehead. then he holds my face in his hands. He looks in my face and says, “Take it easy. This is a cool apartment. Eat all the food, drink all the booze,” and he gives me a soft kiss on the lips. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours. Phone me if you need to.”

  Chapter Fourteen

  Connor

  I didn’t have a set of keys to the apartment to leave for her. But I’ll only be out a couple of hours and I don’t expect she’s going to want to go sightseeing.

  First I drive around to see a couple of realtors. Corky’s apartment has me spoiled and short-term rental prices are a cold bath.

  I find a few things to consider, but nothing that makes me excited yet. Early days, though. I’ll find something. then I take a table in the back of a Bourbon Street bar to make a few calls. Smoky jazz wafts from a piano player and a girl with a sax almost as big as she is, over in the far corner. Even in the morning, with almost no-one in the place, the music here is just on another level.

  With my calls made and arrangements in place, I send the musicians a drink before I head off to Nico’s. It should be early enough to take him by surprise again. And I want that visit taken care of and out of the way before this evening.

  Daylight has done nothing to improve the look of Nico’s neighborhood, or the shaky neon sign over the awning.

  Inside, the club is like a painting of a hangover. Slow-fingered customers with heavy eyelids, girls looking like they’re at a four day party, where the fun only stretched to day two. The barmaid, Siobhan, still looks bright though. She gives me a smile. “Bushmills, is it?” I nod and she tips her head to Red, who is propped up at the corner of the bar.

  Since our last meeting, I did more homework and I learned his name.

  “Rhiordan,” he looks up warily as I approach with my hand extended. There’s a thick glove on his left.

  “Nico’s not here,” he slips off his stool. “But he left something for you.”

  When he tells me to follow him back into the office, I take my tumbler of Bushmills Malt with me. I’m ready for a backroom surprise. You never know with these fuckers. I’m starting to think I should be carrying a gun around. Seems like everyone else in this town does.

  Back in the office, he takes off the glove and rubs his bandaged left hand. It looks swollen.

  “Sports doc said it could be a couple of weeks,” he tells me. “Good thing it was my left.”

  He sits behind the desk and opens a drawer. As he takes out a fat envelope, I ask him,

  “You don’t jab with your left?”

  “As it goes, I’m a southpaw if I box. I don’t get much call for jabbing these days, though.”

  “Only stabbing?”

  “No. Showing the blade is all it takes usually. We don’t get a lot of trouble in here.” He says, “That’s a strong move. Grabbing the thumb like that. A guy who was in special forces told me about it a long time ago. I didn’t expect to come up against it in here.”

  The phone in my pocket vibrates with a text. Now I want to bring this meeting to a close so I can read it. For now, though I have to ignore it. One thing at a time.

  He slides the envelope across the table, “You okay for a drink? I’ll get you another if you like.”

  “No. Thanks. Nico’s pretty trusting,” I nod at the envelope. “Or at least he trusts you.”

  Rhiordan shrugs. “I haven’t looked inside.”

  “Yeah. It would be tough to guess what’s in there.” I put the thick packet of bills in my inside pocket.

  “You don’t want to count it?”

  “Rico wouldn’t want to get the amount wrong.”

  “How’s the girl? Rico told me to ask you.” My eyes narrow. Rhiordan says, “He really does care about her. People get Rico all wrong, you know.”

  I cock my head to one side, “Hm. I wonder how that would happen.”

  “Okay, I know how he comes off. Is she alright, though?”

  “Sure. She’s grand.,” I tell him. And I wonder. Why would she not be? “Glad your hand’s on
the mend, though.”

  He shrugs. “No hard feelings.”

  I give him my number and say, “Keep in touch,” and he gives me his.

  Then, before I leave, “There’s a message to go back to Nico.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah, not from me. From above.” No names. I don’t know where Rhiordan is in the pecking order. “A man’s going to be put in here. A man in charge.”

  Rhiordan looks up in a double take. “Seriously? He’s sending notice of that.”

  “That’s the message.”

  “And, would that man be you by any chance?”

  “If it was,” I tell him, “I’d be the last to know. But I would say it was highly fucking unlikely.”

  A hooded figure waits by my car. I ask, “Are you a twenty-four hour lurking urchin?”

  Gabriel says, “I kept your car safe.”

  I tell him, “I should put you on a retainer.”

  “You should. I could tell you stuff.”

  “What do you know?”

  He shrugs. “Not much. I’m good at finding things out, though.”

  “Yeah? Give me a piece of paper.” I write my number on the scrap and hand it back to him with a ten. “Send me a text so I’ve got your number, too.”

  As I leave, I tell him, “Impress me.”

  She needs rest and downtime and I want to give her as much space to herself as I can. I can’t wait to get back to her, though. I don’t remember when I last felt like this about a girl.

  Remembering her makes me smile. Thinking of the taste of her lips, the round weight of her breasts, I’m getting hard enough to ache.

  Then I remember the text on my phone.

  I’m disappointed, though. It’s not from Luce. Two texts came in from Corky. One gives me the address of the Kinahan house for the party. The other one said something about her daddy telling her a man has ben sent. I wonder if she sent it to the right person. As Im looking at it, I think I should text her and ask about spare keys. While I’m thinking about it, the phone rings. The screen says ‘NO01.’ My burner. That must be Luce.

  I brighten up inside and sit back.

  “Hey,” her voice is like a spring morning. “How’s it going?” I take a long breath and slow the car down as I settle deeper into the seat.

  “Good. A couple more things to check off the list and I’ll be heading back.” Give her a chance to say how long she would like have the place to herself. “Are you finding everything you need?”

  “Everything and more. This apartment is fantastic.”

  “I’m glad you like it. I was looking for somewhere this morning, but I don’t think I’ll be taking anywhere as nice as that. But we’ll be there a few more days at least.”

  “That’s going to be fine by me. Will you be back for some lunch?”

  “Oh,” I smile, “Do you like to cook?”

  “No,” Her laugh sparkles. “And I’m lousy at it. I was hoping you would though.”

  “You liked the breakfast?”

  “Mm. A lot. I want more.”

  “Are we still talking about lunch?”

  “Mm-hmm. How many things are left on your list?”

  “Let me look.” My heart hammers, “Just one now.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  Luce

  The rumble in his voice makes me hot. Before he left I was panicked and feeling trapped,. Then, almost the moment he was gone, I did nothing but miss him. I pined, burning for him. Remembering all the things we did. And all the things we didn’t do.

  I feel like I stepped out of a nightmare and into a dream. A feeling that I was carrying, like a weight on my shoulders, a lead cape, fell away when I slipped into his car the first time. If it crept up on me or if it had been there forever, I didn’t even realize it was on me. It probably landed the night I got the news about Daddy.

  I thought I was happy before that. But how can you tell? How can you compare the way that you feel now with how you felt in the past?

  Being with him made me afraid from the start, but in a different way. I’m not afraid of what he might do, or of what will happen to me. Now I’m afraid of what I will want. And how much I want.

  I don’t feel like the mousey little girl who wants to please everyone. Not anymore. Now I want things. And I want him. I’m afraid to trust the way I feel, I know it can burst any moment, but I’m determined I will enjoy it while I can.

  My plan was to try to make myself look nice before he got back, but the shower is all I’ve been able to do. The rest of the time, I’ve been sitting and looking out of the windows, watching the river. I found a huge green tee-shirt with the smell of him and I’m wearing that and nothing else.

  The elevator bell dings and I jump to my feet. The doors slide back and he’s there, in an immaculate white shirt and suit pants. He holds up two Galatoire’s carry-out bags.

  I’m impressed, “You’ve been here long enough to sniff out the good food.”

  His eyes harden when he sees me. Looks up and down from my head to the hem of the tee-shirt. He looks hungry.

  “Shrimp remoulade and shrimp Creole,” he says, stepping out of the car. “I got both.”

  “Mm,” I hurry to him and purr, “I want some spicy sausage first.”

  His eyes harden. I’m surprised at myself, too. But I know that’s only the starter.

  I stretch up to kiss him, hold his face in both hands. His lips set me on fire. I press against him, feeling the bulge of his abs and the swell of his chest against my breasts. I moan as the hot ridge in his pants presses against my stomach. I grab his ass and pull him to me.

  “Wait,” he chuckles, “Will you let me put the bags down before you debauch me?”

  “Oh, no, big fella.” I tell him with a growl, “You do what I say and you stand there with your hands full while I get what I want.”

  He glowers at me. “No.” I say, “Like this you’re my prisoner.” I kiss him, hard and long, pushing him up against the wall. Running my hands over his abs. Down. Into his pants. His cock is huge and hard.

  I move down his body, kissing and nibbling all the way. At the same time I drag his belt open, then pop the buttons on his fly. On my knees, his scent is enough that I can taste him on the back of my mouth. Thats where I want him. On my tongue. All the way back in my mouth. In my throat.

  Sweet saliva spills into my mouth. I chew my lip as I reach into his shorts and I press my cheek against the the bulge for thrilling preview. He sighs and vibrates when I blow and nuzzle against him. My hot, damp breath fans him, my cheek brushes him and my hand finds and caresses him.

  With my teeth I pull down the front of his shorts so he falls, spills out, leaning long and fat. As I lick the underside and the base, I start to wonder if I can really fit him in my mouth.

  I remember what a stretch my pussy had to make, how sore it was I still feel a buzz from it, at least twelve hours later. Pulling on his shaft, I haul him down to point straight out, right at me. I lick him again and again, and squeeze the shaft. The unevenly contoured shaft zings and pulses. It’s reddening. And it’s so rigid.

  I feel every ripple as I draw my tongue along the underside, inching up to the bottom of the slick head. I stretch my mouth wide, then slip my lips over the top, and shove them down, along the hot shaft.

  Licking and sucking as I push and nibble my way down, I grip the cheeks of his ass to pull him deeper.

  “God, Luce,” his voice rasps, “God, what are you doing?”

  I push my tongue along his underside as the crown of him slides against the roof of my mouth. He is way the biggest thing that’s ever gone into my mouth.

  Sweet saliva slews and slathers all over and around him as I pull between his legs and drag him deeper in. After he scrapes on the back of my throat, I hold him there. Locked in the entrance to my throat. Having him in my moth, almost all of him, sends a charge of power through me.

  I scrape his shaft with the tips of my teeth.

  I feel him trying to bend a
t the knees.

  His voice is thick as he says, “Let me put the food down at least.” I turn my head slowly, side to side, letting my teeth drag on the flesh of hi cock. I won’t let him. I’ll make him hold on to the food until I’ve had my fill.

  Slowly, sucking hard, I pull back, keeping my lips tight around him, until he pops out. I pull his sack forward. He moans and his hips roll as I and suck his balls, one by one. My mouth is still sloshing wet, and with my other hand, I rub and squeeze, pulling on the wet shaft of his cock.

  Then, as I scratch my nails up the insides and around the tops of his thighs, barely touching him, except for a surprise jab every once in a while. I suck him in half way. the deeper. then less. Then deeper. Always taking him tantalizingly closer to the wet, eager muscles of my throat.

  I feel him pulse and tremble. The teasing anticipation is driving me crazy. I know it must be many times worse for him. I’m going to milk him. I’m going to swallow him whole and suck him dry.

  His thighs tense and his hips roll as I take him in my mouth, squeezing him with my tongue pushed up against the under side of him. The hot, smoky tang of precum trickles over my tongue and drips in my throat.

  I push to take him deeper and suck him harder with with each shove of my head. I work deeper along his shaft until he’s gripped at the top of my throat.

  A chuckle rises in my chest. The sound shakes my throat and vibrates along his pulsing cock. He moans and flexes as I swallow him deeper.

  “Wait,” he shouts. I shake my head and laugh. “Luce, my god,” he growls, “If you don’t stop that, I’m going to come.”

  I nod, firmly and grin as I suck and bob harder. He heats up and swells. I grab his ass. His cheeks clench, rock hard as my nails dig in. The swelling in his cock starts at the base and fattens the length. Then he explodes.

  Silky, sticky fountains of hot, salty lava coat and fill my mouth. I taste him on the roof of my mouth and he bubbles out around my lips.

  “Luce!”